


With a taste for Vanilla

by FangirlWolfie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Draco!Bottom, Drarry, Harry!Powerful, Harry!Top, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-19 07:53:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3602229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FangirlWolfie/pseuds/FangirlWolfie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Malfoy smells like Vanilla and bites his lower lip and Harry just don’t know what hit him…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Have you ever meet someone who smells like vanilla? The question might be simple but honestly have you? Because suddenly I experienced the sweetest aroma I've ever smelt and it made me lose what little sanity I had left. 

My eyes snapped away from the boring schoolwork that lied in front of me and I found myself staring up at the face of my archenemy. Or at least that is how we have seen each other all these years. 

I don't really remember how it all started, no one really does, but sure to say we have kept going at it. Like two rabid dogs trying to bite each other’s throat out. Always hindered by outer forces, for our own good they said... And usually I agreed. 

"Harry!" Hermione said with a sharp voice as I got up from my chair and faced down the blond pure blood. He looked up at me (yeah a late growth spurt had actually made me taller than Malfoy, how cool isn't that) as I frowned at him and the vanilla aroma he extracted. 

I supposed that I looked angry or simply dangerous as Hermione felt the need to rise up as well to put a calming hand on my shoulder. "Harry", she said again and squeezed my shoulder. I just stared at Malfoy's unsure expression and how he fiddled with his hands. Almost as if he was nervous. I snorted at the thought; Malfoy wasn't one to be scared. He was an arrogant prick, spoiled and a little broken down after the war... But honestly who wasn't? 

"What is it Malfoy?" I asked with a vicious voice. Why vicious you might ask? Well I guess a seven-year-old habit die hard. Malfoy always had the ability to bring out the worst in me. Strangely enough, the vanilla scent made me lean forward when my guts told me to stay back... Malfoy remember? The one who broker my nose at the Hogwarts-express, the guy almost crucio-ing me because I had interrupted him crying in the bathroom. The same person who let in Voldemort's Death Eaters into the castle to kill and torture... Still... that smell. 

I masked my movement of leaning in by taking a threatening step forward to hold my grounds. And... Malfoy actually stepped back..! Malfoy... Stepping... Back... Wow the worlds usual laws seemed to have disappeared and left hilarious illusions in its wake. Hilarious because of their unrealistic presentation of how reality worked, Malfoy for example didn't back away. Never had and never would, not even with three wands pointed at him and threats of stinging hexes or worse... Not that Hermione, Ron and I had actually cast stinging hexes on him... But we were in a bit of a tight spot and bloody Malfoy had been inconvenient as usual. And then Snape had shown up and yeah.... Detention every night for three weeks, including the weekends. Remind me and Hermione never to follow Ron to the kitchen next time he felt hungry in the MIDDLE of the night, at least not without the Maunders-map. 

"Harry, come on ignore him", Hermione stressed as I peered down at Malfoy with curious eyes.   
"What's up with you", I asked the blond snake as his eyes looked at me with a vary expression. Like he thought I would suddenly hex him bad. 

The vanilla scent kept on emerging from him, like some sort of call that drew me closer and closer. I wondered if it was his soap that smelt this way? Because he hadn't always smelt this delicious... Or had he? Had I just managed not to notice, or was it some sort of perfume? I catch myself wanting to lean forward and press my nose to his throat and breath in. Just beneath his jaw close to the pulse point, I was almost certain that the sweet smell would be even stronger there. 

Wow man! I shook my head as a surprisingly arousing image of me harassing Malfoy popped into my mind. I should really NOT think like that. Not when Malfoy from another universe stood in front of me and Hermione was behind me almost clutching my shoulder.   
"Harry come on", Hermione actually pleaded with me. "Leave him be..." 

I tore my gaze abruptly away from the blond snake when Hermione for some reason told me to stay down! ME! Like I was a freaking Slytherin!

"The fuck Hermione", I suddenly found myself snarling to her face. She looked pale as my blazing green eyes redirected their focus to her. " Do you hear yourself?" I looked at Ron for conformation that she obviously was the crazy one, but Ron... Well... He actually looked scared shitless. "What?! " I asked with a frustrated voice. 

"Calm down Potter", I heard a familiar drawl behind me. Or somewhat familiar. There wasn't any confidence in the drawl nor any smugness. But I still knew without a doubt who it belonged to.

I whirled away from Ron and Hermione, both had obviously lost it for the moment. Malfoy stood still close to me and that freaking smell was once again attacking me, filling my head with disturbing images. Okay who was I kidding the images that filled my head wasn't anything but glorious but really not what I needed right now. 

My body disagreed with my mind thought and I felt how I fell down in an almost predatory stance. Malfoy seemed to hold back from flinching as his eyes went wide and fearful still directed at me.   
"Calm down?" I snarled. "I am fucking calm!"   
"No your not fucking scar-head, you're almost killing them with all that fucking magic you're releasing. Just. Fucking. Calm. Down!" 

It took a second for the blond snakes words to register. But oh fuck. 

Ever since I'd gotten that damn horcrux out of me my magic had started to increase in power. Like my magic had been partially suppressed of Voldemort's soul or maybe it had been keeping Voldemort fed inside of me, either way leaving me drained. I don't really know how but ever since the final battle I had started to develop an insanely huge magical core. So huge that people had been complaining about the pressure brought with it. Obviously if magic as strong as mine wasn't controlled well enough it started to wear down on other wizards defences. We all had our own magic and for wizards and witches it could be deadly to get you core influenced by another person’s magic. That's why all people or animal that's magical have defences around their core of magic. There were no spells to break down this born protection, the only way was with raw power... Something I now have so much of that I've almost started sending people into coma when slightly upset. 

Because it was that which made me loose what little grasp I had on my magic, feelings... And so... now... 

I lifted my eyes form Malfoy's trembling form and looked around the library. It was almost empty save from a few students that panted heavily, leaning against whatever surface available to support them from collapsing. As I concentrated I could almost hear my magic crackling in the air, happy to no longer be suppressed. I quickly remembered the many hour I’d spent practicing shutting down my magic, or rather toning it down with the help of shields. The only problem with it was the constant strain of having to suppress a part of you, I was honestly not very found of having to do this... But, I thought as Hermione suddenly gagged in a very disturbing manner, I was obviously out of control. 

I raised my shields around my core and grabbed the magic flying around the room, pushing it behind the shields as well. Somehow everyone took a deep breath of relief as I took one of tiredness. The magic was fighting for the freedom it already been denied for so many years... And I felt kind of sad to have to shut it in. After all, I knew how it felt to be locked away. 

I made a grab for my school things that had been laid on the table and made a hasty retreat out from the library... Mumbling something akin to sorry as Hermione looked at me with a worried expression. I ignored Draco as well as the people flinching away from me on my way out. I felt like being alone... Very alone... Right now. 

The most horrible thing was that I didn't really feel bad for everyone else that I put in danger by simply being this powerful. I just felt sad that they were so weak that they couldn't even stand in my presence without my shields up. 

The only thing that comforted me was McGonagall's words when we'd spoken about if I was going to attend Hogwarts or not this last year. I had first hesitated as my power even then had grown enormously in strength with only a few weeks without the horcrux suppressing it. The headmistress thought had disagreed. Dumbledore or as McGonagall called him, Albus (I smirked a little at that thought) had apparently also been marked with an overbearing magical power growth during his early teenage years. For him it had been bad at first... but after a while his surroundings had started to adapt to the constant flow of his magic. So at the end he could let his magic flow free with people who knew him without the fear of hurting them. That had been the only valid argument that convinced me about returning. I would hate to be separated from my two best friends Ron and Hermione just because I would become some semi-half-god too powerful to approach. 

But, I sighed as I marched towards the Room of Requirement. It didn't help that my powers just kept on growing. Just as people seemed to have almost adapted to be around me, I got another power-boost that sent them towards the edge of unconsciousness if I let my shields down. Like fate hadn't punished me enough with killing half of the people I loved. Now she was going to make sure I couldn't be around the remaining half.

As I approached the Room of Requirement I thought about a quiet and cosy room with a windowsill I could sit on. When I opened the door, the room was perfect, as always. A fire lighted up the room and a grand window showed a setting sun in beautiful colours. I felt happy at the sight and fell down beside the window with my schoolwork in front of me. With a happy humming I let down my shields and felt the tiredness that came with restraining my magic disappear. My magical core almost sang in content as it flowed over the room and I finally managed to feel completely at ease. 

That was... Until I smelt that damn vanilla aroma again. 

My head went up fast as lightning as I saw a blond head close the door to the room. I watched in fascination. Malfoy turned around and looked at me with guarded eyes once again, like he was unsure if this was the right thing to do. What he had on his mind thought, I had no idea. 

The snake seemed to almost tremble as his breathing became laboured the further into the room he went. Oh right... Magic. Even though he seemed to struggle against the heavy magic that flowed around me I didn't lock down my powers. It had felt way to good to forget about the stupid shields for once so I didn't bother with them. Oh sure Malfoy would be most uncomfortable but honestly... I didn't really give a damn as it was Malfoy and... He had come here looking for me, on his own free will. So? If he couldn't stand it he would simply have to walk out of here, this was my relaxing spot, deal with it.

Malfoy stopped his slow approach a few meters away from me, looking ready to faint. Even thought he was nowhere close to me, I could still feel the faint smell of vanilla. I almost started to drool as Malfoy leaned against a table to catch his breath. Maybe it was that alabaster skin of his that smelled that way? Was this his natural smell, or perfume? If it were perfume did he take it on his wrists? Or was it only girls that used perfume there? I had absolutely no idea but I turned my gaze to Malfoy's hands grasping the oak wood table and damn... He had thin, long, beautiful fingers and I wanted so badly to know what they felt like when running through my hair. Or if they would taste vanilla if I popped them in my mouth. And... GOD this was bad! 

I tore away my eyes from Malfoy's fingers only to catch his silver eyes studying me intensely as he nervously bit his lower lip! God those lips looked soft. I silently wondered if my earlier estimation about where the vanilla originated from was wrong? Maybe he had a gum, or candy that gave him vanilla breath? Would his tongue taste vanilla...? SHIT! DOWN THOUGHTS DOWN! 

I cringed visually as this mind pattern of mine seemed to lead down paths better not taken. And what scared me the most was the urge that came with it, the almost impossible-to-resist-urge that had already made me lean towards the blond boy with predatory eyes. Malfoy looked scared without really knowing why and I tried to tame my weird, VERY WEIRD new emotions. Which by the way probably was mostly confusion due to the many power-boost I was receiving. YES CONFUSION! That was it! 

"Potter?" Malfoy's voice brought me back to earth as he looked at me with those silver gleaming eyes. I tried to think about all those times when I had despised Malfoy to the extent that I was tempted to avada kedavra him just for my peace of mind. But now when I saw him here, not Hermione or Ron but bloody Malfoy, I couldn't really put any anger into those thoughts. I blamed the damn vanilla scent that seemed to drive my brain crazy. 

"What are you doing here Malfoy?" I said with feign annoyance. Still without being able to tear my eyes away from his face. That pale face with big eyes and beautiful features. 

"I..." Malfoy stopped himself and looked unsure. He once again bit his lower lip and before I was able to stop myself I had let out a low growl. 

Malfoy stiffened at the sound and I wanted to die of embarrassment. A growl really? What was I? A fucking dog? But before I could dwell further into self-loathing Malfoy had paled and his eyes betrayed his emotions rather plainly with their looking-for-an-exit-movements. Draco Malfoy was panicking because of Harry Potter’s dog impression. I didn't know if I should be amused or worried? He had probably gotten the wrong idea of the growl if his shrinking form was anything to go at. 

Malfoy was scared. 

I didn't know what I felt more disturbing? The thought of Malfoy being afraid or me not really caring at the moment. It was kind of weird-good that Malfoy was frightened... The never scared, always sarcastic prince of Slytherin, terrified. 

I smirked... Before regaining my senses. What was up with me lately, really?

Malfoy obviously thought that I had grown annoyed with him, or searched for a fight. And sure I had actually chosen to let my magic roam free even thought I knew that he felt threatened by it. So why the hell would he risks annoying someone who could knock him out cold without even noticing? What would have actually happened if I actually tried to use my magic against him? Tried to make the wild magic that danced around us concentrate on him only? 

I shook my head solemnly, feeling with relief some of the old guilt returning. The guilt that had been a constant reminder since the war, reminding me of the life's I could not save. But now reminding me of the life's I could save by keeping myself in-check. Because I knew that Malfoy would be dead before I had gathered half of my magic, and that thought made me almost feel physically ill. 

I had gotten some weird personality traits of late but it was to my utter relief one thing always stayed true; I would never hurt someone innocent. Rather the opposite I always did my best to protect them and even if Malfoy was as far from innocent one could come in my book, right now he'd done nothing wrong. 

"Malfoy", I said in a calming voice as I retracted my magic from the room. Once again prepared to lock it behind closed doors, no matter how tiring. 

"Don't", he suddenly said as he looked at me. Still nervous, but not run-and-never-look-back nervous as he'd been a few moments ago.

"What?" I asked perplexed at his word.

"Just you know..." he bit his goddamn lower lip again as he glanced at the floor. 

" Stop that", I interrupted with narrowed eyes as I tried to hold back this urge I’d developed from doing something stupid. Like starting to howl or roar or whatever animal my throat would do an impression of next. 

"Stop what", he asked as he pouted at my predatory stance, or sit, or whatever you had while sitting on a windowsill...

"Biting your lower lip", I nodded accusingly towards his mouth. "It's annoying." Well perhaps distracting was a better word for it, but no way in hell was I going to say that to Mr Blondie. 

Malfoy gave me a hot glare at that comment and it felt reassuring to spot a familiar part of my archenemy under all those... new personality traits? 

"I do not bite my lower lip." Malfoy said without hesitation and glared at me with narrowed eyes. I don't know why but my crazy side decided that it liked Malfoy fired up with anger. It mad me wondered if I could make him unbalanced again? As I seemed to have been doing before without even trying. Make him look unsure, scared or so nervous that started he biting on his lower lip. 

Right now he was plainly angry, reminding me of who really was in front of me… But at the same time made me wonder if he was this fired up when pressing those lips on somebody else's?

WAIT why would I wonder that?! 

But even if the thought had just popped out of nowhere, it stayed. I felt something grow hot inside of me as I thought about how Malfoy kissed. He was spoiled, used to get what he want, so he would of course take the lead, trying to be in control over the situation. He would probably have a hand clutched in the other ones hair trying to lead the whole act. I wondered if he would feel helpless if the situation was reversed? Would he loose his cool? Would he enjoy being controlled one for once? 

A spike of jealously shot up in me at the thought of Malfoy kissing another person. And he had without a doubt. I remembered our forth year at the juleball, Draco had gone with some girl from Slytherin, with a beautiful face and dark hair. Ron had seen them going at it and had pretended to gag, I had thought it was funny then but now...

STOP...! Now concentrate on you life Harry! On this freaking situation!

My thought returned to the now as I remembered whom I was, where I was and that I had the object of my... Ehrm... Imagination? In front of me. 

Impatiently waiting if his tapping foot was any indication. 

And he was biting that damn lower lip of his again and somehow that made the vanilla scent stronger, and that didn't make any sense at all but FUCK! 

I got up from the windowsill and was inside Malfoy's personal space in seconds. Malfoy had backed into the table behind him as he'd tried to escape my lightning fast approach. That he'd failed was an understatement as I right now almost leaned him over the table and- GOD STOP BRAIN! 

In my self-anger my magic had once again broken free and hung over Malfoy like seven thousand pounds of water. Malfoy's breath increased rapidly at the pressure, which made my brain go into overload as I roughly grabbed a hold of Malfoy's chin with my right hand. I let my thumb press against his lower lip that was fasten between his teethe in that nervous gesture. I marvelled at the softness of his lips as I gently pulled it out from its position with the pressure of my thumb. Malfoy stared at me with eyes big as plates as I leaned down towards him and first then really getting hit by that amazing smell of vanilla. Merlin! 

I really was helpless, as some strange part of my brain took control over my actions, not that I really fought for control but still... 

Malfoy was pressed against the table behind him as I stepped in the last step, pushing myself almost flushed against him. Malfoy's breath hitched, I liked that. My hand was still cradling his chin in a strong grip and my thumb was resting against his lower lip. 

"You", I said and could almost feel my magic coursing through the words. "Bite", I pressed my thumb against his lip to mark my words. "Your", another press with my thumb against his lip and was that a whimper I'd heard? "Lower lip." Malfoy looked up at me from beneath and if that wasn't the most stunning sight I'd ever seen I don't know what. Malfoy's pupils were dilated... A freaking lot. And I seriously didn't want to know what mine looked like at the moment, was the green in my eyes even visible?

Then Malfoy did the most extraordinary thing. Probably the most stupid thing of his life, or perhaps the best thing? He opened his mouth and allowed my thumb to slide in, sucking gently on it. My brain stopped functioning, and at the same time it went into overdrive as I stared down at the blond creature who wore that amazing smell. I leaned forward against him and let my left hand tug gently at his hair as I leaned in and buried my nose in it. Merlin, that smell must have intensified at least ten times as I marvelled at the softness of those blond, almost white locks. Malfoy's tongue wrapped itself around my thumb that was still in his mouth and I stifled a groan as my hand tugged at his hair a bit harder. Malfoy let out another sound that defiantly should be illegal for my own sanity's sake. 

I let myself wander away from his hair down towards his neck, to that place close to his pulse point. My left hand kept on tugging that soft hair of his, only I didn't know if you could call it gently anymore. I forced his head back to expose his neck to my hungry eyes as I spread my right hand fingers (that weren't in his mouths) over his cheek in a controlling manner. I didn't know what it was with me and the instant pleasure I felt when commanding Malfoy but I enjoyed it. 

Maybe it felt this good because during the war I had been the one who'd been manipulated? Always the weak one who needed help, who needed guidance... Or as it had felt, needed a leash. Sure people had wanted what was best for me and I had been just a kid at the beginning. But... Sometimes I'd just gotten so tired to follow blind leads without being able to make judgment myself, without being able to know what I was even fighting for. 

But right now as I buried my nose in the neck of one Draco Malfoy I had never felt surer. I marvelled at the vanilla scent that clung to his skin as it had clung to his hair. It was everywhere apparently. Malfoy pressed himself against me and did a maddening movement with his hip. I let out another of my damn dog growls as I tightened my hold over him. He only whimpered in return but didn't stop moving his hips. I pressed my lips against his skin and felt his pulse beat against my lips. I felt high on emotions as I wondered if he tasted vanilla or if that was just a smell? My tongue dragged a long wet trail over his pulse point and lower jaw as Malfoy let out a ragged breath and grabbed a hold of my robes. 

He tasted interesting. Not really vanilla, but more of a warm, sugary sort. I felt myself immediately addicted to the flavour, Malfoy flavour. I pressed myself even closer to him if possible, almost bending him over the table as I sucked hard on his throat, nibbling at the soft skin that met me. I tugged at his hair to get better access to his throat and hummed in content as Malfoy whimpered beneath me. After putting a rather glorious mark on his pale skin I kissed it affectionally, marvelling that I had left a somewhat permanent reminder of this... Unique situation. I rose up from Malfoy's neck and returned my attention to his face. That beautiful alluring face that usually wore a snarl, but for once only looked tempting as hell. A flush was spread over Malfoy's features and he was still nibbling at my thumb that was nestled between those soft lips. A funny warmth burned in my stomach as I noticed my other hand buried in his hair, still tugging gently to make his face stare at me in the right angle. 

The right angle? 

My brain seemed to have gone on vacation as I slowly removed my thumb from Malfoy's mouth. He let it go with a soft pop staring at me with big eyes full of something I was afraid to name. 

Lust? Convenience? Love? 

I shook my head and abandoned thoughts that would ruin the moment. Thoughts that would without a doubt make me back away and question everything in my life up to this point. Right now it was only Malfoy. Or perhaps it would be more correctly to say Malfoy's lips as he looked into my eyes and very deliberately bit down on his bottom lip. 

Gently flew out the same window as consequences as I suddenly pressed my lips against Malfoy's with a growl. The force made him literarily bend over the oak table and without separating our lips I followed him. Pressing myself over his body that was so warm and felt so good. I kept my left hand in his hair and put my right one on his neck with an almost bruising strength. I had never felt more alive. 

This was nothing like kissing Cho. Nothing like that depressing moment when she'd stared to cry over Cedric because how could she not? This was wild and I loved it with intensity previously unknown to me. Right now I didn't wonder if my magical core was crushing Malfoy, or if perhaps my body pressure was the one doing the crushing. Right now all that was in my mind was the vanilla scent filling my nose, how warm and soft his lips were and how I would ever be able to let go of this beautiful creature in front of me. 

Then Malfoy opened his mouth and what little restrain I'd had left disappeared as dementors hunted by a patronus. I didn't hesitate as I invaded his mouth and felt the taste of freaking vanilla great me. I groaned in appreciation as I began to devour Malfoy's mouth, tongue included. Malfoy's heart fluttered against mine in hundreds of miles per hour and his hands embraced me in a desperate hug. Drawing my body closer to his as he hooked one of his legs over my hip grinding in. I let my hands stray from their position around Malfoy's head as I griped a hold of his leg and pulled him up from the table with the help of my wild magic whirling around the room. Without breaking contact I hooked his other leg over my hip as well and he tightened his grip on me holding on with the help of his legs and arms. I carried him to the closest wall as we continued the wild kiss mostly consisting of tongues and teethes. I pressed him against the wall and mimicked his hip movement, meting his small thrusts with my own. Malfoy soon started to whimper as he caressed my back sneaking his hands under my robe and trying to tuck my shirt out from my pants. I broke our kiss and he took a deep breath of air, like he'd been drowning, before letting out a moan that sparked my already burning fire. 

"Fuck", I whispered as I stared sucking on his neck once again, fisting my hand in his hair and forcing him to once again expose that maddening throat for me. Malfoy did a broken sounded whimper as his hands caressed the now exposed skin of my back. I shivered at his touch as I left another bruise on his throat by biting down on his Adam's apple. 

"Potter", he breathed back in a surprised moan and I felt his nails digging into my back. 

It felt electrifying. 

It also felt good to hear Malfoy's voice without its usual sneer; to hear it moaning my name. I grunted in response and remembered the vivid image of Malfoy's mouth around my thumb, sucking. My hands grabbed a hold of Malfoy's hips at that thought and I started to thrust into him with earnest, guiding his hips to meet mine as I felt the pleasure building up. Malfoy let out whimpers of pleasure and abandoned caressing my back to hold on as I drove him into the wall with my thrusts. I fastened my mouth to his once again and felt the maddening taste of vanilla as Malfoy suddenly whimpered loudly into my mouth and his whole body shudder wildly. What had happened became terrifying clear to me and with a few powerful thrusts where Malfoy was dazed and shivering against me, I felt my own pleasure reaching new heights as I reached it's peak with a burning sensation.

I had to use my magic to help me hold Malfoy up so that I wouldn't drop him, as I suddenly felt drained but content. My mouth was still attached to Malfoy's and I let my tongue explore his mouth with lazy strokes tasting that vanilla flavour which made me wonder if eating the blond boy would be as good as kissing him. Malfoy kissed me back lazily, letting his hands run over my back even as his thighs shuddered from exhaustion. He had after all been balanced on my hip for at least five minutes and one orgasm. 

Wow... My thoughts wanted to return to sanity as I just realized I had shared an orgasm with Malfoy. Was that sex? Or was sex the penetrating part? Had I just lost my virginity? Could a guy even lose his virginity? 

But whatever mind-hill my brain was tumbling down it disappeared as Malfoy lightly bit down on my bottom lip. I felt his smile against my lips as I pressed our bodies closer once again and caressed his left cheek. I knew that I was only prolonging the inventible by snuggling but I didn't know what this was, how it had started, but most importantly if it would happen again. Did I want it to happen again? As one of Malfoy's hands ran through my hair I shuddered, yes I defiantly would HATE if this didn't happen again. 

We stood so for a while. Me pressing up against Malfoy who was still clinging to me like a koala even thought his thighs kept on shaking of exhaustion. Perhaps he was hanging on to this as long as he could like I did. Perhaps he didn't want this to end either? 

Malfoy couldn't seem to get enough of me as he caressed my skin, ran his fingers through my hair and down my chest. I felt content with kissing him lazily ignoring the slight uncomfortable feeling that said orgasm had left behind in my pants. Right now all that mattered was kissing Malfoy and enjoying the vanilla flavour that had managed to become my new favourite taste. Just before the sugary taste of Malfoy's neck. 

But after a while Malfoy's thighs couldn't bear being wrapt around me anymore and I caught him gently before lowering him to the ground. Malfoy's legs didn't really seem to want to cooperate as he almost fell down when trying to support his own weight. He looked mortified and refused to look me in the eyes as I helped him over to the sofa in front of the fireplace. He sunk down on the cushions and began to gently massage his legs without meeting my eyes. 

I sat down beside him and the thoughts that I previously confined sprang free and close to drowned me in a waterfall as they came rushing down. Malfoy! Draco bloody Malfoy! Archenemy, prince of Slytherin and ex Death Eater! Wow talk about keeping your enemy's close… I scolded myself but couldn't resist feeling concerned over Malfoy's silence. He hadn't said anything since moaning Potter in that moment of... Errr... Passion? It felt somewhat wrong to think of Malfoy screaming my name but at the same time it felt so right. Like I could fight a thousand dark lords just to hear freaking Malfoy moan my name. Disgusting! 

I shook my head, whom was I kidding. It was bloody amazing and I knew it. To say something else was feign ignorance, something I had sworn to my self never to do again. Not after the Order of the Phoenix and all their secret plans and 'for your own good' bullshit. 

I remembered that I still had my magic swirling around the room, probably making Malfoy feel uncomfortable as everyone else. I silently cursed myself for forgetting to shield him from it when we... Uhm...? Had? Sex? Or whatever it was. He must have felt like drowning being so near me without the shields up. I wondered how he'd cooped so well? Usually people puked or blacked out when they were near me when my shields were down. Like Hermione had done in the library earlier. 

I began to withdraw my magic from the room, better late than never I guess, when Malfoy's head shot up and he locked his eyes with mine. It startled me enough to lose grip on whatever I had tried to do, and my magic gleefully sailed back out in the room again. 

"Don't", Malfoy said and I felt a familiar feeling at those words. This time however Malfoy didn't bite his lower lip, just stared at me intensely with an unreadable expression. I furrowed my brows. Stop what? 

"What do you mean?" I asked as a spark of something possessive flared when I saw Malfoy's bruise covered throat. I had done that. As I looked closer at Malfoy I could see several signs of our previous activities. It almost made me purr in content. His hair was standing up in all directions, very different form it's usual combed state, his clothes was dishevelled and his lips swollen and red. All in all if you added the large bruise on his throat, Malfoy looked thoroughly fucked. And as disturbing as I should have found that I didn't, rather the opposite. And if the weird part of my brain had free regime we would be doing this again as soon as possible. Preferably within the next half hour... NO! Concentrate. What was I? An animal without self-control?

"Don't suppress your magic", Malfoy stated calmly, unaware of the battle inside my mind. 

I looked at Malfoy startled. Had he told me not to suppress my magic? 

"Why not?" I found myself asking without realizing why. Malfoy's cheek grew red under my gaze and Merlin I wanted to kiss him, to feel that wonderful taste of vanilla once again. But my face said nothing of my feelings as I waited for an answer. 

"It tires you doesn't it?" Malfoy said suddenly looking somewhat concerned. 

I cringed at his clear insight, I hadn't told anyone that my shields made me tired or that suppressing my magic sometimes was like being locked away in that cupboard all over again. What had given me away? Malfoy looked worried again and a bit scared. Earlier I had thought that my powers had scared him. Usually my magic made people feel helpless, like they were pray and I was the predator. I had gotten used to scared looks over the year but for some reason it didn't feel like Malfoy was scared of my magic. It was rather like he feared my reaction about him telling me this, like my dislike was scarier than a power that could kill everyone within this castle in seconds. It somehow made me feel immensely happier. 

"Yeah it does", I answered truthfully letting a small smile shine through my otherwise locked expression. "But what does it matter to you?" 

Malfoy looked startled at my question even though he seemed to have relaxed a bit when I smiled. He kept on massaging those legs that still didn't seem to have stopped their tired shaking as he answered with a thoughtful expression. 

"You know you've helped me a lot..." He started of, staring into the fire rather than meeting my gaze. "I never thought that I would have a life if the dark lord died..." He smiled bitterly as his slender fingers kept working his leg. "Not that I really thought I would have a life if he'd lived either. I'd always been to much of a coward to be a proper Death Eater..."

"Not taking a life isn't a weakness Draco."

Said Draco's eyes widened as I used his first name instead of the usual Malfoy. I moved closer to him and gently took a hold of his legs and put them over my lap taking over the massage from Blondie. Draco's legs were tense and trembling as I began working with loosing them up from their cramp. The prince himself watched me with wondrous eyes, almost looking ready to moan again as my hands trailed up and down his thighs. I reminded myself not to stray with my touch; we had to talk things out before anything could happen again. Not that anything necessarily would ever happen again... But still.

"Say that to any member of the Dark Lords circle and you're considered a muggle-lover and traitor", Draco drawled before sending me an unsure look, checking if he'd stepped over a line. I just hummed in agreement and continued kneading as Blondie relaxed once again before continuing. 

"It's just", he said and met my eyes. "That it feels wrong that you have to hide away a part of you, to suppress it when you basically saved us all." He furrowed his brows and looked determinate as he uttered the words that were like balsam to my soul. 

I hadn't gotten any sympathy when my power came in question. It felt like bragging if I complained of my 'enormous power', like saying I was too good at studying. So I hadn't complained when I had to hide the wild flow that wanted out, just apologized for making people feel uncomfortable, hoping that one day my power would be an ordinary everyday thing. When really it would never be. Perhaps I was foolish believing McGonagall's assumption about people getting used to all this unleashed power, especially since my power-boosts didn't seem to occur less after six months. 

So when freaking Draco of Slytherin now said that it was unfair, I thanked the Gods and Merlin for finally making someone understand. I beamed at Draco as I squeezed his thighs gratefully. Another red flush graced the blond boys features as he bit down on his lower lip. The gesture set something off in my stomach but I calmed myself by getting back to work, massaging away my urges. 

"Thank you" I said after a while of silence. "I didn't think anyone would get it." 

He smiled a crocked smile at me and drawled with irony. 

"Oh perfect Harry Potter has so many issues. Too many marriage proposals, too many price ceremonies, titles and money. And now the next problem is too much power, oh the trauma"

I snickered at Draco's dramatic voice as a weight lifted from my heart. For a moment it just felt like two friends hanging out. It felt... Ordinary. I made sure to cherish this moment in my mind. Who knew how many moments of simplicity would occur in my life, the life of the chosen one. The slayer of Dark Lords and Saviour of the wizard world. 

The moment lasted until my eyes fell on Draco's throat. Then I realized that we had to talk about... Well stuff. 

I stiffened in my posture as I remembered what had happened, and Draco must have noticed where my eyes lingered because he suddenly smacked his hand on his throat in a cautious manner. My cheeks bloomed red as I saw his slender fingers touching the marks I had put on him. Draco seemed equally embarrassed. 

"Well..." I begun but couldn't really continue. What would be a good way to start this conversation? 

"Yeah", Draco said suddenly with an unusual high-pitched voice. "Look at the time." He quickly removed his feet from my lap and got up from the sofa on wobbly legs. "I have a meeting", he informed me without meeting my eyes. "Uhm... A very important one you see." I kept staring at him as he moved towards the door while facing me. He looked almost terrified and panicking and for a moment I was confused. 

The meeting was obviously a lie... Was he afraid of having to reject me? Did he want to reject me? My heart sank at that thought. WAIT! Did I want him not to? I felt confused as I saw Draco approached the door like a timer ticking down to an explosion. My emotions were confused, as were my thoughts but when Draco laid his hand on the door-handle I realized I would lose something precious if he left. And honestly I wasn't prepared to lose anything more than what I already had in my 18 years as a hero. 

When Draco pressed down the door-handle the large oak door wouldn't budge. He sent me a panicking expression as I went up from the couch to approach him in a fast stride. He actually seemed to whimper as I pressed up on him, looming over his form without touching. A pale face stared up at me with large eyes and red lips. I kept my rougher side at bay as I stared at him with dilated eyes. 

"Draco", I said with an unusual low voice. "We need to talk."


	2. Raven locks

I think it was in forth year that everything changed. 

After that I was just fighting myself, denying reality and trying to live up to my fathers expectations. Trying to be the perfect son he’d raised me to be as well as keeping my appearance in school. 

I don’t really know the exact moment that the hate turned to love but one day I had looked at Potter’s picture in the Daily prophet with that mudblood Granger hanging around his neck and fuck- It had strangely enough hurt as hell. 

I tried to label it as disgust. Disgust that Potter would let himself be embraced of a filthy mudblood. Disgust that the whole wizard world was made to suffer the awkward hug between said mudblood and the boy of wonder. So I had naturally put my heart into making life hell for Potter as his Hero-status was steadily increasing with every task in the triwizard tournament. I had even made sure to snog in front of him and the weasel at the Yule ball… Right then I had a legit reason in my mind to why it would make Potter feel bad. Something about showing off what I had and he could never have. But of late I’ve realised the act for what it was… A way to make Potter jealous. That it took this long for me to realise only shows how blind even a Slytherin is to fucking love. 

I had started to see things more clearly when Potter showed up with Diggory dead in his arms. I saw that boy-wonder didn’t live the life of a prince hidden away in a golden castle. 

0But I turned my sympathy into self-disgust as I next year used Diggory’s death as ammunition to trigger scar-head. It didn’t make me happy to watch Potter angry or hateful, but it calmed me down to know that we were still the same. That I was still concealing whatever had been awoken when I saw those ruffled raven locks in the arms of Granger. That we still hated each other and things were as they were suppose to be. 

But I had this constant ache inside and right then, it was easy to blame it on Potter. He made me miserable, and if I was torn and broken so should he be. 

Maybe the fog of hate that I’d protected myself with would have stayed if not for that faithful day in the bathroom. That day when Potter had marked me with scars, making me not so different from himself as I cried bleeding on the floor, just as he’d cried when clutching the dead Hufflepuff. 

When I woke up in the hospital wing with a thin silver line across my chest I knew that Potter wasn’t something I would ever be able to forget or move on from. Potter was someone everyone wanted something from; there were no exceptions as we were all fans of the boy who lived. But I could pretend to be the exception, the archenemy that only wanted him to suffer, never expecting him to be something he wasn’t. Did that make me special? I had to hope so as I continued to play my part, only with less fire. 

But in the grand making no secrets stays hidden. Maybe it was while facing the beat-up face of one Harry Potter in the hands of Death Eaters that the grand realisation came to me. 

I loved Harry fucking Potter.

Just like everyone else. It made me want to kiss the mangled face of boy-wonder as well as doom him to death for making me, Draco bloody Malfoy, fall in love. Since then it wasn’t so much about me, more about staying alive and trying to help, if all possible, boy-wonder. 

In the end he won the war. After breaking my heart with his fake death and after breaking it again with forgiving me. With the forgiveness I no longer had any connections to the raven-haired saviour. No longer any way to claim his attention without being one of them, the mindless fans. The ones Potter would smile at before moving on, forgetting their very existence as soon as they were out of his vision field.

I would rather die than being that. So I kept quiet, tried to remain as someone not-like-everybody-else in the eyes of boy-wonder. At least I didn’t have to be mean anymore, didn’t have to look at him with hate when in reality the opposite went through my mind. Didn’t have to meet those blazing green eyes and fear that instead of sneering I would smile and everything would be ruined. 

Because all my ties to wonder boy was severed. I had no reason to see him ever again and I cried alone for a very long time because of it.

But then life decided to grant an ex Death Eater a year of happiness by being able to attend Hogwarts one last time. By giving me the gift of watching Potter a whole year before being separated for good. Dooming me to live of paper clips, statues, books and memories of the wizard world’s saviour. 

So when my last year at Hogwarts started I kept my head down. Tried to go by unnoticed, even if that was as far away from a Malfoy one could come. But Merlin fate sometimes had a cruel twist to her blessings. 

At the first day of school Harry Potter had stepped into the Great Hall, fashionably late and stolen breaths away. He’d been different from last year… in so many ways. He had grown at least three inches over the summer, which left his character looming over Granger and looking eye to eye with Weasley as they strolled down the Gryffindor table. Potter’s hair was no longer short and trimmed but once again wild and untamed, almost like forth year. His clothes was rather plain, but just that he’d put on fitting clothes made a hell-of-a-lot difference if the stares in the Great Hall was anything to go at. But of course, the biggest change of all was his magical pressure. It made me feel like a hunted animal, caught in a trap with no way out. But it also felt reassuring. I knew that Potter would never harm anyone not deserving it, he if anyone knew how power could reduce people to slaughtering maniacs. So that Potter of all people had become something close to godlike didn’t disturb me as much as reassure that wonder-boy would keep the world order. He would never turn evil, nor would he allow the wizard world to fall down the abyss it just climbed up from.

Sadly I knew two days later that power was something Potter would rather live without. 

I don’t really know why I was up and walking in the corridors after curfew. I guess that it was after another one of those dreams I’d started to have. Where Potter would come up to me with dangerous eyes and press up against me, reducing me to a quivering mass of something burning and oddly enchanting. Then he would smirk before attaching his mouth to mine and completely devour me. 

The dreams had always made me edgy. I had never really thought about Potter in that manner before this eight year. Sure I had stared at his raven locks and tilted smile and felt strange, but I had never really allowed myself to imagine anything more. Somehow those walls had crumbled after seeing Potter grow taller and more confident with the power of at least two Dumbledore’s. Now my brain felt free to use its fantasy to the fullest. Only downside to this was that it left me frustrated as hell and scared that Potter would somehow figure it out. I mean looking at Potter and turning away blushing would be a dead giveaway and was something that I’d almost done twice already. 

So I’d been walking the halls, trying to walk away my feelings that as usually was in a tumult when I’d run into the golden trio itself. Just my fucking luck.

I immediately fell into my old role as archenemy when Weasley saw me first with a groan of irritation. 

“What are you doing here ferret?” 

“I could ask the same weasel, here to cause havoc or have they finally thrown you out of the Lions den? You are after all not really an asset.” 

“Oh just shut up Malfoy”, said an all to familiar voice.

For a moment my world slowed down as I turned to the object of my dreams and obsessions. Potter stood there in the dim hall and looked down on me with blazing green eyes and a scowl. I admired his tanned skin and nice built for a few milliseconds before returning his sneer half-heartedly. 

“I’ve authorised permission to walk these halls Potter.” I lied with a venomous voice as I stared at a point beside him in a desperate effort to not to drop out of character. “Why don’t you and your… Pets just crawl back to where you came from and I might not say it to a teacher.”

“Oh really”, Potter sounded distrustful as he started to circled around me. I felt the familiar pressure of his magic as it started to become more and more difficult to stand straight. 

“No you’re right”, I bit back and tried to keep some of the oblivious trembling from my voice. “There’s no way that I’m letting go of this chance to bust some lions. Consider yourself the reason of the 150 points drop in the Gryffindor hourglass.”

Potter actually snarled at me as he stepped closer to my dismay and happiness. He looked truly brilliant as he stood before me with close to glowing eyes as fury was radiating from him. His magic made the impression so much more breath taking as I watched Potter looking more alive than I’d ever seen him. 

I was actually just about to drop down on my knees because of Potter’s magic as something unexpected saved me. Just before the pressure became too much did someone else fall down behind boy wonder. As Potter turned his attention elsewhere the pressure lessened and I took a deep breath of air as I tried to hide my shaking hands in my pocket. 

“Hermione”, Potter’s voice was lanced with worry as he fell down beside the mudblood witch with careful movements. 

“Harry mate”, the ginger decided to speak up. “Your magic is kind of overwhelming.” The weasel sounded choked as he leaned towards the corridor wall, shaking worse than me. Strange considering that Potter’s magic had been focused on me and not on him. 

“Oh”, Potter responded slowly. I couldn’t help but notice the sadness than lanced his voice as the overwhelming pressure suddenly dropped. I felt grateful as well as a bit sad that the magic disappeared almost completely, reduced to a weak pulse in the air. 

When Potter turned around I felt a pang of pain. His earlier stance that had screamed power and joy was gone, replaced with a grey replica that could only be described as tiredness. I suddenly hated the weasel for making Potter lock away his magic. Potter who had saved them all, who had lost so many and sacrificed too much.

Boy wonder, or rather boy of pain, turned his attention back towards Granger as she awoke from whatever semi-coma she’d fallen into. The three friends looked at each other for a moment and Potter forced a smile to reassure the airheads that everything was fine. The same airheads that was so magically weak that they couldn’t help from fainting at the mere pressure of strong magic. 

And that trio had defeated the dark lord? Merlin they must be lucky. 

As the trio redirected their focus back to me I’d found myself at the mercy of three wands as Severus rounded the corner. 

I couldn’t really have wish for a better position to be caught in than that one. 

The Gryffindor’s had gotten a rather heated telling off and lost the exact amount of points that I’d predicted to my satisfaction and theirs dismay. I’d even heard Weasley mumble: “too bad you saved him from that snake”, to Potter who had the decency to look annoyed at the statement. 

I had on the other hand been rewarded 20 points for busting students out of bed, never mind I didn’t have permission to be out walking either.

But I couldn’t really help the feeling of unease as I remembered Potter’s tired stance after the shut down and his pained eyes as he’d smiled reassuringly towards his friends. 

And some friends they were… Not even noticing the difference when boy-wonder was letting his magic roam free and when he kept it inside of the damn shields. A difference big as night and day if you ask me. 

Just that got me thinking. The fact that Potter’s power was under heavy shields put up by him and kept by him. To have shields up constantly would be almost impossible. Most wizards could only keep one up the few seconds it took to reflect a curse, not a whole day and absolutely not 24/7. It would leave them tired and drained of energy and magic. I’d swallowed when I realised that Potter probably was even more powerful than I’d imagined. If he didn’t have the shields up he’d be able to literarily crush people with his powers. But strangely enough I felt then and feel now that it would be preferable to hurting boy-wonder. 

Merlin I really have it bad for Potter if I deem his happiness more important than other people’s life.

The thought of Potter’s suppression wouldn’t leave me alone and I started to notice every twitch of unease in wonder-boy’s posture. To say I noticed a lot would be an understatement.

It began to keep me up at night and made me distracted during the day. My friends would probably have wondered what mental disease I’d developed, but most of the seventh year Slytherins hadn’t come back for their eight year. I’m pretty certain I wouldn’t have either if not for my stupid, stupid crush on Potter. 

So here I was, collecting data that pointed towards Potter’s struggle that no one seemed to notice? Like what the heck? And I had this nagging feeling that I wouldn’t be able to let it go without doing my outmost to fix it. So naturally that’s what I planned to do, fix Potter’s mess. 

I was in the library when I noticed the golden trio studying and it had felt natural to just walk right up to them and ask Potter for a word in private. But then… Everything went wrong. 

Or maybe it went right… Soooo very right. 

Potter wasn’t really as calm as I had presumed when I approached him; I guess old habits die hard, because as soon as I made my presence known I found myself faced with wonder-boy in all his glory. In other words pissed and with shields down. I seemed to have that effect on him. 

Then everything became so wonderful and painful that I felt like pinching myself, which I didn’t because then I might have woken up. 

I had finally gotten Potter alone, but instead for the awkward but necessary conversation about the shield, things just got out of hand. 

Like literarily out of hand. 

All those messed up dreams I’d had about Potter coming onto me, dark and dangerous suddenly came true. Only reality was a thousands times better than my imagination. Potter had completely devoured me with that fucking mouth of his and I’d barely been able to breathe under the pressure of his magic that seemed to swirl around me and make everything so much more fucking wonderful. I’d felt like a hunted deer, a roaring lion and more alive than ever. 

I’d almost lost conscious as Potter had bit down on my throat as if I was a freaking cake and then proceed to kiss it gently. All his actions had confused me and rendered me to a quivering mass of bliss as he’d acted like a damn Casanova. It made me jealous as well as forget anyone I’d ever fancied beside Potter. I’d just held on as I was pressed between a stonewall and the body of my obsession trying ride out the waves of electricity that came with every thrust Potter made against me. My legs quivered as I pressed myself as close as possible to Potter, feeling like never letting go as a familiar heat was building up in my stomach. 

I’m pretty certain that I tasted heaven for a second in the arms of Potter. 

It was a bittersweet feeling as I knew that whatever had happened wouldn’t happen again. Obviously this was a moment of mental weakness on Potter’s side and after the lust had stopped fogging his mind he’d push me away, disgusted no doubt. 

After I felt Potter shudder against me a short moment after my own peak I stiffened in fear. This was the moment of rejection. Now he’d tear his wonderful mouth away from mine and give me a look of horror before dumping me on the floor. Probably threatening to curse me if I told a soul about our encounter. I was unsure if I would manage to keep my tears at bay long enough for him to leave the room.

But the moment never came. 

Amazingly enough Potter’s mouth didn’t leave mine. I felt how his tongue made lazy movements inside my mouth that I mirrored with almost scared movements. I didn’t dare to let go with my legs around his mid, as it felt like the moment would break if I did. My legs shook of tiredness, and I found myself cursing that I didn’t work out more as I bravely held on. Taking this last moment of our encounter to do everything I’d dreamed of doing. I ran my hand through Potter’s raven locks, feeling content that they were in my embrace instead of another’s. I stroked his back that I a few moments ago had felt without the stupid robe in the way. I pressed myself as close as possible to wonder-boy to feel him, one last time. 

But everything must come to an end and I reluctantly dropped down from my position on Potter’s hips to stand on the floor. My legs betrayed me with not supporting me and I felt mortified as Potter actually helped me to the couch by the fire. 

I tried to distance myself as I waited for the moment of rejection, the moment when Potter would say: “This was an mistake” and leave. The worst thing was that Potter without a doubt must know that he had me wrapped around his little finger. I’d freaking moaned his name before rutting against him like some lovesick dog. How I’d ever considered myself a Slytherin was beyond me as I clearly lost all my cunning and acting ability. The sorting hat would yell out Hufflepuff if I put it on right now. I almost sneered in disgust. 

But Potter had actually not said anything about the ehm… what had we done exactly? Gotten off on each other? Participated in a heavy make out session? Potter had just sat down beside me and started to withdraw his magic. And that had got me going. 

I actually managed to get through to him, as I spilled my opinion on his so called “shields”. He’d even started to freaking massage my legs which I by now praised for being weak and betraying me. Just to have his hands on my thighs had almost made me moan as my poker face made a late appearance. 

But of course, even that came to an end and as Potter looked at me with serious eyes and I felt myself grow cowardly. I liked Potter. A lot. I didn’t want to have him reject me. I didn’t want to hear that this was a mistake, that I was a mistake to him. I shuddered as I realized that I would rather never see Potter again than hear about how me loving him was something he regarded with annoyance and irritation. 

I fled. 

Or tried to, because I should have realized that no one escapes boy-wonder when he wants to tell you something. My cunningness seemed to be on permanent vacation as I blurred out one of the more obvious lies in my life in a pathetic attempt to escape Potter’s judgment. 

In the end I found myself here. Pressed against the door with Potter leaning over me, inches between our faces. 

“We need to talk.”

I shivered as Potter’s breath ghosted over my cheek and willed myself not to throw me at wonder-boy as his low voice hit something primitive inside of me. 

“Must we?” I whined as my body longed to step forwards into Potter’s embrace while my heart wept because the act would be receive with rejection. Potter held my gaze firmly as I did my best not to drown in those green eyes. 

“Yes”, Potter said with finality, leaning an inch closer to me as his eyes roamed my face with something akin to hunger. I felt a pang of hope in my chest as I studied his demeanour. What if he wouldn’t reject me? What if Potter actually didn’t regret what we’d just done? 

I shook my head before the thoughts took root. There was no way that Potter would ever want to do anything else than hex me. Not after years of hate between us. This intercourse we’d just had would without a doubt be considered a moment of insanity. Maybe he would see it like some sort of release for the constant task of keeping his shields up… 

What if that was it? What if this had been a release of built up stress and tiredness?

Then… Maybe he would consider doing it again? Potter would be able to blow of steam, and I would get the privilege to experience a bit of heaven. I could just do that? Right? My feelings wouldn’t be returned but at least I could be something else than “Malfoy the Enemy” to Potter? Maybe we could be friends? The talk we’d had a moment ago had been enjoyable, nice even.

I almost smiled as I could actually see my line of thoughts happening. This was perfect, an explanation to why Potter had done what he’d done that also left me hopeful that this might become a regular occurrence. The only thing left was convincing Potter that this was a wonderful idea! 

“Potter”, I begun in a small voice. I silently cursed myself for sounding insecure as I took a step closer to Potter. I had presumed that he would back away from me as I took a step in, but instead he held his ground. Making my lips almost touch his, as I was waaaay to close to be able to sound like anything but a lovesick puppy. 

With great effort I continued. 

“This”, I motioned my hands between the two of us. “Happened because of stress?”

Potter only looked at me as I felt the words leave my lips. He didn’t really seem to have heard me as he continued to stare into my eyes with furrowed brows. 

“Draco”, he said with a strange voice. “Do you know that you really smell like vanilla?”

Of all the things I thought that Potter would have responded with; this wasn’t on my list. 

“Excuse me?” I said with an equally strange voice. 

“Yeah”, he continued and dipped his head so his forehead leaned against mine. I felt my heart flutter at the contact. “You smell here…” 

My breath stutter as I felt Potter stroke his fingers against my pulse point beneath my jaw. He pressed gently and my eyes almost fluttered close at the sensation. 

“Here…”

Potter allowed one of his hands to run through my hair, gently tugging at it as a low whimper escaped from my throat. 

“But you actually taste it…” Potter let his thumb rest against my lower lip as he’d done before. I opened my mouth and allowed his thumb to slide in once again, still unable to resist the temptation. 

“…here”, Potter finished his maddening sentence and pressed his thumb down against my tongue. I couldn’t hold back the moan from escaping as Potter once again pressed himself against me, his forehead touching mine and his other hand sneaking around my mid to pull me into an even closer embrace. Whatever argument I’d been about to do was since long forgotten and I allowed myself to be swept away by Potter once again, ignoring the consequences. 

“But” Potter said after a few seconds of maddening closeness and euphoria. “I need to know what this is”, he moved away from me and I let go of his thumb with a soft pop. There was an instant coldness where Potter had pressed against me, and I felt naked as I stared up into those green eyes with unmasked longing. 

He wanted to know what this was. Now was my chance to explain how this could benefactor both of us, how he could release steam and so could I, even if I in secret loved him. But as I stood before the wizard world’s saviour himself I couldn’t make myself lie. I couldn’t label this as something like: “friends with benefits”. I just wanted him to know my feelings and pray that he would be kind when rejecting me. Because right now, I just wanted to drop the whole Malfoy act and be Draco. 

“I love you”, the words barely left my mouth before I realised what I’d done. I made a jerking movement and would have ran away if Potter hadn’t grabbed my arms and pressed me up against the door, efficiently cutting off my escape rout. 

“You love me?” He said with wonder as he stared at me with large green eyes. I didn’t dare meet them as I kept on fighting his grasp, trying to escape. 

“Draco”, Potter said as I didn’t show any signs of listening. 

I ignored his plea as my mind had blacked out. All I could think about was how Potter would be disgusted and crush me unintentionally with a face of disturbance as my words registered to his brain. 

“Draco, can you just listen for a second.” I shook my head and I felt fucking tears threatening to spill over. I felt like a wreak. 

“Draco just calm down!”

I kicked Potter in the shin as I doubled my efforts to get away from here. But Potter just pressed himself flushed against me and held me firmly pressed against the door, rendering my movements to the minimum. I was suddenly hit with a heavy wave of Potter’s magic and felt my strength leave me as my breath quicken. 

I hadn’t really felt like a prey until this moment. Now when my whole being wanted to be as far away from here as possible and Potter had me limply pressed against the door. 

I felt how fucking tears start to flow of exhaustion and fear and FUCK!  
I hated this situation, I hated myself and right now I hated Potter for doing this to me. For making me! A freaking Malfoy cry and being the opposite of the confident man I’d been raised to be. 

And then he kissed me. 

In one swift movement Potter’s mouth once again covered mine and he kissed me like he was dying of thirst and I was water. I had no way of keeping up, and I allowed myself to be devoured as I whimpered into wonder-boy’s mouth. Potter explored my mouth with long strokes as he continued to press me into the door. He let go of my hands to grab a hold of my hair with one hand and cup my face with the other. His thumb stroke away the tears on my cheek and I felt something akin to fire burn where he’d touched me. 

I let go of anything logical and wrapped my arms around Potter’s neck as I felt close to melting together when I pressed into him. Potter tore away from the kiss and I took a deep breath of air as I stared up into the face of one red-lipped Potter. He smirked down at me and for once I was too dazed to return the gesture. He then bent down and licked my lips that I presumed was even more swollen and red than boy-wonder’s. I shivered at the sensation.

“Clearly vanilla”, he breathed in my face. I stood silent before him as he let his face drop to where my neck met my shoulder. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly when I felt Potter’s warm mouth pressed against my skin. I leaned forward and buried my nose in Potter’s raven locks. They were surprisingly soft as I raised my hand and ran it trough them, gently untangling some knots. 

We stood so for a while. Just basking in each other’s presence. I had stopped panicking and felt drained as I allowed myself not to think and just enjoy the moment. Potter seemed content to just lean against me and sometimes run his tongue over my throat while mapping out my back with his hands. 

It felt heavenly. 

After a while Potter raised his head from my shoulder and stared down at me. I patiently waited without saying a word. I didn’t feel like fighting the inventible anymore and my fear of being outright rejected had lessened after the kind-of-cuddling. 

Potter grabbed a hold of my arm and steered me back towards the couch. I followed willingly as I let him manoeuvre me to sit down where I’d sat before. Potter sat down beside me, but instead of leaving it there, he tugged me against him and I found myself laying down on the couch with Potter laying over me. I stared up into the green eyes of wonder-boy as his body pressed down on mine with a wonderful heat. I raised my hands and ran them through Potter’s hair as he peered down at me with curious eyes. His hair was blacker than ever against my pale hands and I felt a sad smile grace my features as I played with one of his locks. 

Potter’s eyes kept studying me, like he tried to figure something out as he grabbed a hold of one of my wrists and kissed my pulse point gently. I swallowed as Potter had done the act without breaking eye contact. As if he wanted to see my reaction. I felt the hot wet trail of a tongue as Potter explored my wrist with a teasing smirk in place. 

I am pretty sure that my face must have shown some sort of emotion because Potter dropped the smirk and my wrist in favour of capturing my lips. I tangled my fingers into his hair as I felt the now familiar tongue invade my mouth with rough movements. Potter kept my face in place with strong hands as he gave me one of those kisses that had me drowning by the end of it. He sucked on my lower lip before he realised my mouth with a soft pop, then moving on to nuzzle my neck. Teasing the already bruised skin with nips and licks. 

“Potter”, I breathed as I felt a familiar tug at my hair. I obediently raised my head to give Potter better access before trying to remember what I was going to say. 

“Is it okay?”, I finally settled on. 

Potter only hummed against my throat. The sound making vibrations that sparked a primitive need within me. But I needed to say this before anything else happened; I needed to know where we stood with each other. Potter obviously thought my attraction to him, no my love for him wasn’t a bad thing. And judging from his lips and caresses he didn’t find it disgusting to embrace me. So what was I to Potter?

I had told him that he was the one I loved. But Potter hadn’t really responded, or rather I hadn’t given him the chance. Right then it had felt as if Potter’s response would mean a fate worse than death... but now with said Potter ravaging my neck I desperately wanted to have this labelled. 

“Me loving you, is it okay?” I forced myself to aske with a hoarse voice even thought I would rather lay back and caress the black-haired beauty above me. 

Potter stopped playing with my neck and raised his head to stare down at me. I stared back at him with guarded eyes. He quirked his head to one side and looked at me with a thoughtful expression as he softly ran his fingers up and down my throat. 

“How can you love me?” He asked at last as he shifted above me, starting sparks everywhere within me. I tried to concentrate on what he said and not get distracted of the warm body that moved above me. “I mean…” Wonder-boy continued as his hand spread over my throat in a possessive gesture. I was unsure if I should feel scared or flattered of the motion as it made my breath quicken in something between fear and excitement. “… You’ve made it quite clear that you hate me.”

Potter leaned down over me and dragged his tongue over my jaw without breaking eye contact. As if he wanted to test the limits of what I would allow him to do. Little did he know that I had no limits regarding him… I stared down at Potter as he studied me with the eyes of a predator… No limits at all.

“I guess I’ve been kind of hush-hush with my feelings…” I joked in a pathetic attempt to escape sincerity. 

Potter just stared at me with calculating eyes as I squirmed underneath him, feeling Potter press down on me heavy to make my movements stop. I couldn’t keep a silent whimper from escaping as I felt a burning sensation in my lower stomach. Potter’s body felt great on top of mine, warm, hard and wonderful. I shook my head in an attempt to stay on focus as Potter looked at me while his hands wandered over my face and chest. 

“Yeah”, Potter finally responded in a strange voice as his hand tugged my hair a little to roughly to be gentle. “Really hush-hush.”

I swallowed as Potter forced my head back so that my throat became exposed, before biting down on it with an almost painful force. It felt like punishment for all the times I’d been nasty to him, for labelling our moments of hate and pain as “hush-hush”. I felt trapped between pain and arousal, as Potter’s teeth without a doubt bit through my skin. 

“Ow”, I whined quietly and felt Potter replace his sharp teeth with a soft tongue. He licked the bite mark he’d put on me and I felt a dull throb of pain at the gesture. 

“What was that for?” I breathed faintly as Potter kept sucking at the bite mark, drawing out blood from the wound as if he was a freaking vampire. Boy-wonder didn’t seem inclined to answer as I suddenly felt a hand pull out my shirt from my pants. 

I didn’t really know how to react. On one hand I had always wanted this to happen, especially of late. But on the other hand, right now Potter felt strange. I felt this nagging feeling that Potter was pissed at me for that “hush-hush” comment and even thought this should have been a moment of achievement. It only felt like a moment of unease. 

“P-Potter” I said with a shaky voice. Cursing myself for sounding like fucking Quirrell when this… confrontation didn’t seem to work out. I needed to take control of the situation, needed to convince Potter that he was fucking amazing and that I would never be the total prat I’d been so far ever again! Voldemort was dead, my father was in Azkaban and so I had no one left to impress or pretend for. 

But I felt how the words stuck in my throat when a rough hand graced my skin with feather light touches. My breath hitched as I almost started to hyperventilate of all emotions that screamed inside of me. I wanted to scream, moan, cry and rage at this situation and my inability to do something about it. Potter’s hand stroked against my stomach as I panted small huffs of air at the sensation of wonder-boy’s hand caressing my skin. 

Fuck it felt good.

“Harry”, I mumbled, dazed with heat and the maddening sensation of skin against skin. Potter’s mouth let go of my neck at once. I moaned because of the throbbing pain that lingered on my throat from Potter’s freaking torture as said Potter stared into my eyes. His hand that had caressed me gently pressed harder onto me and I felt an odd moment of silence inside of me as Potter’s hand laid firmly pressed against my lower stomach. 

“What did you just call me?” Potter asked me with big eyes. 

“What?” I asked breathlessly as I tried to stay focused on the conversation and not his damn hand that felt too fucking amazing for this to be anything else than a fraction of my imagination. 

I’d had sex before. First time had been not too long before forth grade but definitely before I’d discovered my strange attraction towards Potter. And it wasn’t really as that had been the only time, rather one of the dozen. But I’d never felt this before. None of my girlfriends or occasional bloke had made me into a shivering mess of bliss, transforming me into some kind of love blind animal with the brain of a teenager. 

Never mind that I was a teenager. 

Malfoy’s never lost their cool; but that was before Father had gone to prison and I’d realised that I didn’t want to stand for the opinions of madmen and murderers. Because right now there was no doubt who had the upper hand, I’d exposed myself to Potter both emotionally and physical. And then brushed years of hatred to the side with the word “hush-hush”… Sometimes I hated my mouth…

“What did you just call me?” I woke up from my thoughts as Potter dropped his forehead onto mine. I found myself inches away from the most intoxicating green eyes I’d ever had the pleasure to drown in and took a shaky breath. 

“What… Harry…?” I asked insecure, still feeling the weird sparks Potter’s hand sent into my skin as my stomach fluttered at the prolonged contact. 

Potter stared at me with an odd expression on his face before dumping his entire body weight on me in a dramatic fall. 

“Opfh! Watch what you’re doing Potter”, I said as I felt myself being crushed by the wizard worlds saviour. Potter only hid his head against my shoulder and let out a long breath of air. Like he was confused and tired. PLEASE I was confused and tired! I was the emotional wreak! Why Potter suddenly seemed torn was beyond me as he’d ravaged my body without second thoughts a moment ago. 

“Your so confusing Draco”, he said in a tired voice. “Are this some sick joke to you? Making me practically jump you because you’re somehow that irresistible?” He had mumbled the sentence into my neck but I’d heard the words clear as a day. 

I was irresistible? Really? 

“I’m irresistible?” I asked with a happy voice. Potter didn’t even bother to look at me as his hand moved over my stomach, pressed in-between our two bodies. 

“Like that’s news to you”, he mumbled and began to stroke the side of my ribs, leaving a feeling of fire in his wake. 

I lay silent for a while, now being able to gather my thought as Potter didn’t distract me with anything other than the lazy movement of his hand against my side and the occasional shift of his body. 

I let my fingers tangle themselves into his raven locks as I rubbed his scalp soothingly. Potter hummed in content as we lay there in front of the fire. I felt the sense of unease go away as it replaced itself with a feeling of peace. 

“Potter”, I said after a while of silence. 

Potter only groaned in response and I quickly changed tactics. 

“Harry…”, I hurriedly said instead. Said Harry relaxed against me as I continued to play with his hair. “I’m sorry…” I said and felt the body in my arms tense at my words. “But I do love you, however fucking embarrassing to admit.”

Potter relaxed against me once again and I smirked as his hand dragged along my side with soft movements. 

“Do you realise that it’s hard to believe you?” Potter mumbled into my shoulder. “You’ve hated me until today, and suddenly you love me?” Potter raised his head from my shoulder in favour of peering into my eyes. He leaned forward and captured my lips in a soft kiss. I responded without hesitation as Potter lifted himself partly from my body and deepened the kiss. I panted into Potter’s mouth as he suddenly made a suggestive move with his hips against mine. 

I moaned loudly at the feeling and Potter’s hand was once again moving under my shirt. Leaving goose bumps in his wake and a feeling of ecstasy that made all other thoughts that wasn’t on him disappear. Potter allowed me to breath air as he broke off the kiss in favour of carassing my upper body with two hands. He stared down at me as I was overtaken with pleasure at his hands, moaning and whimpering with every touch. 

“I love you”, I managed to gasp out as Potter’s hands gently teased my skin. 

Potter quirked his head to the side and made that maddening move with his hip again. Easily shutting down my brain in favour of the pleasure my body was feeling. 

Boy-wonder kissed me softly on the lips, before proceeding to leave featherlike kisses on my jaw, cheeks, eyelids and nose. The gesture felt humble and I marvelled at the feeling of happiness that expanded in my chest. 

Then Potter stopped his movements all together and just looked at me seriously. I fought to emerge the daze I’d entered as he obviously had something important to say. I felt my heart do a quick step as Potter’s hands left my torso in favour of cupping my face, soothing rubbing circles on my cheeks. 

“Draco.” I shivered slightly as he used my first name instead of Malfoy. “You say that you love me and I’m fucking confused about if you mean it or not…” 

I opened my mouth to protest that I did love him. But he just put his hand against my mouth and did a “shh” sound with his voice. I held back my objection as I let wonder-boy continue. 

“So, right now I can’t really respond to your feelings”, he continued with grave voice. 

I felt a pang of pain in my chest. Ow, that had hurt more than I’d anticipated. I tried to move away from the wonderful body that lay above me as I felt damn tears threaten to spill. 

“Wait”, Potter said as he noticed how I tried to squirm my way out from underneath him. “I’m not done yet.”

I looked up at him with something akin to scared hopefulness. Was it too much to wish that Potter would still agree to meet up like this? He certainly had seemed to enjoy it. But then again he might also just tell me that it was impossible for him to respond to someone he’d hated for years. Not that I would blame him. It was fucking stupid of me to believe that this would be anything more than a one-time thing. 

“Listen Draco”, Potter said again as he looked at me intensely. “Would you like…” He drifted off and looked oddly embarrassed for a moment. I forgot my inner turmoil as I watched Harry freaking Potter’s face redden and how his eyes averted mine for once. 

“What”, I asked in a hoarse voice. 

“Would you like to go on a damn date with me?” Potter hid his face in my shoulder as I felt a heart beat quickly against my own. I was confused for a moment of what had happened and absentmindedly allowed my arms to hug the body above me. 

Date? He wanted to do what? Go on a date with me? I frowned confused. He didn’t love me, but the again I doubted that he’d thought about me in that manner before today. I on the other hand had been in love for four years, and I’d been in denial for three. It had taken me three years accept my love; I couldn’t expect Potter to do the same in an afternoon. But he wanted to date me? To get to know me better? I felt torn between happiness and fear. 

What if he didn’t like me? What if I screwed up? What if he realised that he’d rather marry the Weasley girl instead of me? 

But then again better try and live with the consequences than regret never trying the rest of my life. I pressed closer to Potter.

“That would be nice”, I responded. 

Potter’s head shot up from my shoulder and he stared down at me once again. He gave me a tilted smile and damn if not my insides melted at the sight. 

“I’m still scared that this is just some stupid game to you”, he said after a while. 

I surprised wonder-boy with a smile of my own. Free from the usual teasing and sarcasm that had been my trademark smirk when we’d “hated” each other. 

“Me too”, I said as my fingers once again tangled themselves into raven locks. “But I would take whatever you gave me anyway.”

Potter nuzzled against me and I realised that my words were true. If Potter played me it would have no consequences, I was too far fallen to even complain. I would just take whatever Potter offered and beg for more. 

Oddly enough that didn’t bother me.

Because right now I was exactly where I was supposed to be. And whatever might lie ahead of this clearly rocky road would be heaven or hell. But even thought I could loose everything as well as win a ticket to heaven on earth. 

I would make damn sure to enjoy the ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yello!
> 
> I was going to make this a one-shot because I suck at updating stories X) but all the attention this story got just made me so happy! So I made it into a two-shot!
> 
> Hopefully you enjoyed part 2! 
> 
> Have a continued great night/day!
> 
> Ps. You’re all awesome!


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